Maximum Ride: Last Stand
by luvin'-music
Summary: She was told she had to save the world. Now, she might not live long enough to see it. Rated T for violence, disturbing images, and some mild sensuality in later chapters.
1. Prologue

**Here is the edited version of this chapter! It's only changed around the end, so if you've already read my story, then just skip on down to the last couple of paragraphs. If you haven't, I hope you like my story! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride. (Obviously...)**

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><p>It started as a plot, a simple little plan. As a wish, a dream that was kept in silence in the night, waiting to poke its head out and show the world its face.<p>

And it became so much more.

She sat at her desk, looking over files, watching the monitors on the wall to her right, surveying everything. She had worked far too long for this, risked too much, lost so much, for this moment, this amazing part of history unfurling before her very eyes. Never did she think she would ever see this day, especially so young. But she will, and so much more!

This was it. Her chance at history. Her father hadn't understood her, way back when he was alive and running this whole shin-dig, running her. But now, he was dead, and she has moved on to bigger plans, a full agenda.

She couldn't wait to show them. It will have her father rolling over in his grave in shock, what she will do with the organization.

See, he wanted this to be an experimental facility for practicing medicines. The School itself was created to figure out the cure for cancer. But that wasn't important enough, she decided. She wanted to advance science, show the world what it could do. She wanted to take everyone's expectations and stomp on them, showing her full power. Thus, she went behind her father's back and told the scientists to begin experimenting. And experiment they did.

She leaned back against the chair, exhaling. This was it, she told herself yet again. This was actually it. The final piece of the giant puzzle that was her plan. She finally had it in her grasp.

The only thing standing between her and final victory were six bird-kids and their talking dog.

She sighed, shaking her head. They shouldn't be a problem anymore. They had been called for extermination multiple times now! Why is this one act so difficult?

Looking back at the file with the leader's face staring up at her, she studied her nemesis, the one thorn in her boot. For years she had been mocking her, coming into her grasp and jumping out again, her and her flock. But now, things should be easier. With her right-hand man being gone and Dylan being her only replacement, it should be a lot easier to get to her.

The woman smiled to herself, holding up the file picture of Dylan, her most successful experiment she had ever witnessed. Never before has anyone taken someone and duplicated them as she had, creating a clone with a dead super-model's DNA. Sure, he wasn't necessarily 'dead' when they had taken him, but that wasn't important. What was important, was that this plan succeeded. That this plan actually paid off. It would be her final attempt, and if she failed...

Shaking her head, she stood, walking toward the monitors. Each television showed the same house, the same woods, the same backdrop, only in different locations. For days, she had been monitoring their every move, keeping up with their plans, their everything. Things had become much easier since she had been given the CSM. Now, she would know wherever the flock went, placing them in high security houses herself.

And they couldn't be the wiser.

Going back to her desk, she pressed the intercom button. "Bring me Batcheldor," she ordered.

"Right away, ma'am," it returned, then silenced.

She sat back in her seat, lounging in the comfort of the cushions, lost in her thoughts of victory. So close, so very close, yet so far away. She had to get this done, now. She had to complete this, or else everything she's ever worked for, everything she's ever accomplished, will be for nothing. No matter what happened, that was the one thought she could not stand, could not imagine.

The door buzzed, then opened, revealing a very old and very tired Jeb Batcheldor. He had come back to her, reporting like the good ol' boy he was, wanting to join the Doomsday Group. Him and that woman, Valencia Martinez. Granted, they had to be two of the oldest people they had ever accepted, but given the circumstances and who they were, she made the exception. "You called, ma'am?" he asked.

She sat up, grabbing the files and stacking them, patting them against the desk to align them correctly. "I most certainly did. Please, sit down. We need to talk."

He obliged, sitting in the plastic chair across from her, crossing his legs. "Is there something wrong?" he asked, glancing at the reports, the monitors. "Is something wrong with the Plan?"

"No, not really. What would give you that impression?" she asked, folding her hands on her desk, inspecting him.

Jeb nodded toward the monitors. "Well, you're monitoring my daughter and her gang. Did she do something wrong again? Is she not adapting to Dylan like we had hoped?"

"Oh, she's adapting to Dylan just fine, Batcheldor," the leader said, smiling a small smile. "That's actually what I wanted to talk about."

"Ma'am?" he asked, confused.

"See, Jeb, you know that Dylan was first introduced to her for reproduction purposes, correct?" It was a lie, but he didn't have to know that.

"Yes," he said, nodding.

"Well, since then, his mission has changed. Instead of being there so we can see if their species can reproduce, we are going to use him to bring the flock closer to the Doomsday Group. Do you follow?"

Jeb looked excited, his tired eyes lighting up. "Really? That's positively amazing news! Will they really come join us?"

"That's what we're trying to accomplish, Jeb," she said slowly, as if she were talking to a child which, given his present state of mind, was what he was like. "But we also need someone else. Someone to bring them closer to the Doomsday Group. Do you follow?"

He looked completely lost. "Someone other than Dylan?"

"Yes," she said gently, patiently. "Someone like you and Dr. Martinez."

Jeb looked excited for a second, then his face fell. "But she doesn't like me anymore. Max doesn't trust me, and I'm guessing Dylan isn't far behind. They'll never accept me again."

"See, that's why I'm bringing Dr. Martinez, too. That way, she'll trust you again."

He thought about it, then smiled, liking this idea. "It could work."

"Now, before you go," she said, handing him a folder. "The flock is going to give you a cold shower, saying they're trying to reverse your brainwashing, as they would say. They think we actually brainwashed you!" She chuckled for affect.

He chuckled also. "Crazy kids," he murmured.

"Exactly," she nodded, appreciating the fact that he was now wrapped completely around her finger. "Now, once they are finished, you have to pretend you are one of them. Agree with everything they say, think whatever they want you to think. That way, it will be easier to bring them to us." She paused, leaning closer to him. "I warn you, though, once you are there, even with Dr. Martinez, they will not trust you as easily as they would. It seems they don't trust grown-ups anymore, no matter how heart breaking that is."

"Don't trust grown-ups," Jeb said, bewildered by the idea. "How?"

"I can't possibly begin to know," she said, waving her hands in the air as if it were something not even she could believe. "But no matter what, we have to get close again, show them the light. You agree with this?"

"Of course, ma'am."

"Then go, Jeb. You will be staying in section-C until the helicopter is here to pick you up."

"When will we be leaving?" Jeb asked, excited to be off.

"In about twenty-four hours," the leader said, picking up some papers and handing them to him. "This is just a list of things you should bring with you, also where you are to report and what time.

But I think you'll get the hang of it." She winked.

Jeb looked through the papers. "Blankets... Clothes... Syringe?" He glanced up at her. "What do we need a syringe for?"

"Oh, you know," she shrugged it off. "Just in case. I trust that we are giving you enough time to pack?"

"More than enough," Jeb said, only slightly curious now.

"Good." She pressed a button on her desk, and the door swung open. "You may go now. Tell Dr. Martinez for me, will you?"

Jeb stood, nodding his head. "Of course, ma'am. Anything for you." He turned and left the room, the door shutting behind him.

The woman sighed, sitting back and looking at the monitors once more. Max was right now sitting at her window, looking out through the woods of her Dr. Martinez's house, their 'safe-house' for now, it seemed. Safe indeed.

She smiled to herself. By this time next week, the world will be hers.

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><p><strong>Alright, that's it! Please tell me what you think! :)<strong>


	2. Chapter 1

**Thanks so much to candygrrl, Jessica Jay Jackson, and Xx-ThisSucks-xX for commenting! I'm happy you like the story! **

**Well, here's the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 1:<strong>

It's been a week since Angel disappeared. A week since Fang left with his flock again. A week since Dylan and I had started experimenting with our feelings toward each other. It's been a week since my mom, Ella, and Jeb have gone missing, leaving me worried beyond belief for them. I keep hoping that one day they will show up, saying how they were off at Disney World or something and forgot to mention it to us. But I knew that was impossible.

For one thing, they didn't exactly go off missing in one large group. My mom and Jeb had sort of walked out of the house together, falling off of the face of the earth within the space of a minute. Ella had sneaked away while everyone else was asleep, leaving a note via dirt in the cave we were sleeping in, telling us that she was _'Born to have wings'. _We don't know where she went off to, but I suspect it was toward the facility that we had worked so hard to stop back at France last week (See previous adventure, book seven). Iggy has been worried sick for Ella, seeing as those two have really been getting comfortable with each other these past few weeks. Frankly, I always thought of Iggy as my son, and having him and Ella crushing on each other- Well, it was pretty weird. But they seemed happy, so I didn't really say anything. Now, I felt heart broken for Iggy, and worried out of my mind for my sister.

Thus concluding my feelings over this past week in a nutshell.

Anyway, now we were back at my mom's place in Arizona, hoping that maybe they'll pop up again so we don't have to search so hard. We've been taking turns surveying the area, keeping up with where they might be and where they're not. Dylan and I have been out the most, circling so far as the state borders, but always coming home with nothing except hunger and hopelessness. I swear, if Jeb had anything to do with this, I will kill him with a rusty saw, and throw the remains in a ditch, leaving him for the crows. Killing Jeb was definitely way up there on top of my list of priorities, right next to saving the world and finding my half-sister and mother. Maybe even up there with finding Angel again.

In case you haven't been caught up with us yet, you have to know this: Angel is either dead, or taken hostage, or in hiding. Ever since the explosion in France, leaving us with only her bloody shoe to revive, these are the only options. She'd changed since the books five and six fiasco. She's actually started acting like her old self again, siding with me more often, not trying to be such a control freak.

And now, she was gone.

We don't cry often. Not me, not Fang, or anyone else. But when that explosion happened, and we couldn't find Angel anywhere, it took a lot for us not to cry. The only ones who could pull it off were Fang and Dylan, and even then with great difficulty. We all loved Angel. She was our baby. I myself had taken care of her practically since birth. Having her gone was like having someone rip a hole in my heart, a hole that didn't need to get any bigger since Fang had ripped most of it open when he left me the first time.

Now they were both gone: Fang with his flock, and Angel possibly in the abyss. Dylan and I were starting to get more comfortable with each other, ever since that kiss up at Paris. Yes, I know, the romantic city of love. How cheesy. But it wasn't actually that bad. Dylan's definitely not that bad of a kisser, and he cares for me. In a way, even Fang agreed that we should be together. Just before he left, he nodded at Dylan in a _It's your turn, take care of her, _gesture that made my heart squeeze. So far, Dylan was doing a pretty good job at it, too. In a way, I never really left his site, and he was always there for me when I needed someone to talk to or a someone to laugh with. Just like Fang was with me.

I find myself comparing the two a lot, lately.

Angel once told me that I needed to figure out my feelings, that I needed to pick either Fang or Dylan or neither, and move on with my life. I had chosen Dylan. So far, I haven't regretted it, and neither has he.

Looking out the window, I saw the woods, the trees reaching up to the sky, trying to touch the sun. It took everything in me not to leap out of the window and take off, flying away from troubles, from the constant reminder that we were now missing two member of the flock, one of them never to return. I couldn't believe where these past two years had gone, what had happened. One second, we were living our lives, trying to keep enough food in the fridge. Now, we were constantly on the run, trying to stay alive.

I couldn't help but feel like I've failed, having Angel die, slipping completely from my grasp. I couldn't save her, couldn't even try.

Turning from the window, I walked into the house, being greeted by the site of Nudge, sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels. Ever since Angel... died, Nudge has been more quiet, which would be a miracle if it weren't for the reason why. Iggy was in the kitchen, working on dinner. Ever since Ella had left, he had been more closed off, worried. And when Angel... Well, he wasn't doing very well.

But by far, there was no one as heartbroken by this latest turn of events than Gazzy. When we flew here, he had never let go of her shoe, the only thing left of her. On our first night here, he cried in the boys' room, Iggy trying to comfort him, but failing. Gazzy was broken, a shell of himself since Angel's death.

To say that we had our issues would be an understatement.

I went into the kitchen, opening the fridge to get some milk. When I reached for a cup, Iggy saved me the trouble and grabbed one for me, giving it to me lightly before turning away, back to his tacos. "Thanks," I mumbled lightly, pouring the milk.

He shrugged, taking a spatula and pressing the meat against the pan, hearing the sizzle of it cooking. Yes, Iggy is blind. Yes, he cooks. He also builds bombs and feels colors. Have a problem with that?

Didn't think so.

I sat against the counter, taking a sip of milk, then placing it on the counter in between me and the stove. "How are you doing, Iggy?" I asked him, looking at his eyes, the half-circles-like-bruises underneath them.

He sighed, shaking his head. "No better than you, no doubt. Or Gazzy," he added, his blind eyes glancing toward the hallway.

I nodded. "He'll adjust," I said softly, picking a peace of cooked beef from the pan and blowing on it, popping it into my mouth. "Just give him time."

Iggy shook his head, letting out a deep breath. "I just hope..." He trailed off, moving aside the beef.

"I know," I said, touching his shoulder. "He'll be okay. Just wait."

"He won't even make bombs with me anymore," he whispered, turning off the stove. "Gazzy, my partner-in-crime, won't make bombs with me anymore."

"What do you expect?" I asked, looking into his blind eyes. "His sister died in a bomb explosion! I wouldn't be surprised if he stays away from them for a few months." His breath hitched, and I lowered my voice, unaware that I had raised it. "I'm sorry, Iggy. I guess things are a little hectic around here, huh?"

He let out a deep breath. "You have no idea," he whispered.

I sighed, shaking my head sadly. "I'm going to go check on him," I said as I stepped away from the counter. "How long until dinner?"

Iggy shrugged. "About five, six minutes?"

"I'll tell him," I said, turning to leave. Before I did, I wrapped my arms around Iggy, giving him a sisterly hug. "We'll find her, by the way," I whispered against his shoulder, so low so only he could hear it. "She can't be far, Iggy. We'll find her. She can't hide from us for long."

He was silent, his eyes closed. "I know," he said finally, his voice husky.

I left him alone, walking through the hallway into the boys' room, the lights off, as always. On the bed where Fang used to sleep was Dylan's covers, lighting up the used-to-be black bedsheets. Now, they were light gray and blue, a definite difference than Fang's always dark... Well, _everything_.

But now, Fang was gone, and Dylan was here.

And really, I wasn't mad over that fact.

See, Fang had left a month or so ago, leaving me with Dylan and the flock. At first, I was heartbroken, ticked off, and all-together furious at Fang. But when he came back and brought Max 2, aka Maya, things had changed. He had grown to like Maya, and I had grown to... Not hate Dylan.

All-in-all, this was all one big, sticky mess. One that we had to conquer alone.

So much for the whole 'see-you-in-twenty-years' thing. That was shot down the drain a week ago.

I walked over to Gazzy's bed, seeing the sad lump beneath the sheets. Poor kid. If I could turn back time, I would. I would have went down there myself instead of him. If I died, that was fine. As long as Angel survived and Gazzy didn't have to go through this.

_You know that's not how it would have happened, Max._

I sighed. The Voice again. _Shut-up, Voice. Make yourself useful for once and leave me alone._

_Max, if you died, then the flock would have grieved over you just as much as they do with Angel. Unfortunately, Max, the world needs _you _more than it needs Angel. _You _are the only one who can save it Max. If you died, there would have been no hope._

_But by Angel being dead, I've already failed, _I thought at it angrily, carefully pushing Gazzy's covers away, revealing his face. _What use am I to the rest of the world?_

_Just one dead person is nothing compared to billions, Max, _the Voice said, no sympathy in or emotion lacing its words, like always. _Think about that._

I sighed as I sensed that it was gone. Touching Gazzy's cheek, I whispered, "Wake up, sleepy head. It's time for dinner."

Gazzy opened his eyes, revealing two bloodshot orbs, as always. "Can you just bring it in here, like you have all week?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"Not today, precious," I whispered, taking his hand. "Nudge misses you. She wants to see your little blonde head again."

"Tell her to grab a picture of me in the living room," he snapped, letting go of my hand and pulled the blankets above his head again. "I'm not leaving," he said, his voice muffled beneath the covers.

I sighed, pulling the blankets down, grabbing his arms and making him sit up. "Either you go in the dining room nicely, or I will force you there." I leaned close to whisper in his ear, "Iggy's making tacos. Perfect night to make them all run for the hills."

"Why don't you just bring it in here?" he whined, looking at me sadly.

My heart broke for him. "Because you need to get out of here. See a little light for once. You're as pale as a ghost in here." Which was the truth. His cheeks were white, his lips pale.

He sighed. "We never even got to bury her," he whispered, staring at her shoe on the floor, bending over to pick it up. "Never even a proper funeral."

"Do you want us to?" I asked, grabbing the shoe through his hands. "Take her shoe and bury it in the backyard, like a regular funeral? Would that make you feel better?"

"No," he said honestly. "Well, maybe. It'll help her rest in peace, at least, right?"

I nodded, tears beginning to brim my eyes. "We'll do it tomorrow, big guy," I said, kissing his greasy head. When was the last time he showered? "For now, why don't we eat some tacos? I'll save an extra big pile of refried beans for you." I smiled. The boys will kill me later, but I didn't care. As long as it got Gazzy smiling again.

He nodded, standing. Grabbing my hand, we walked into the dining room, Nudge and Dylan happy to see him. Iggy was glad enough hearing his footsteps, a smile broadening his usually grim face. "Hey, dude," he said, giving him an extra big pile of tacos, beans on the side. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," he lied grimly, but at least he was making an effort. "We're holding a funeral for Angel tomorrow," he said, looking at me. I nodded.

"That's a good idea, Max," Nudge said, nodding. "Really good. But what are we burying?"

"Her shoe," I explained, sitting on Gazzy's right, in between him and Nudge. "You all in?"

"I'm in for it," Dylan said, grabbing some tomatoes for his taco.

"I'm in," Nudge repeated, grabbing a hard shell.

"I was wondering what was taking so long," Iggy said, sitting on Gazzy's left.

And with that, I finally got Gazzy to eat with us again. After a full week of solitude, he was finally in the light, eating a taco and joking lightly with the rest of us about who would run out of the house first if Gazzy let one loose. It was like old times, sort of.

For now.

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><p><strong>That's it for now! Hope you guys liked it! :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 2

**So sorry it took so long to update! I was on vacation, and I didn't have any time to update! :( Sorry!**

**Here's the comments:**

**candygrrl- Haha, yeah, I'm not a huge fan of Mylan, either. But I am writing like JP would, and right now Mylan is in full force. :/ We'll see where this goes, though. ;)**

**Jessica Jay Jackson- Thanks! Since this is the last book of the series, I want it to be my best, no matter what. I'm putting a_ lot_ into this one! Glad you like it! :)**

**Shayna-18- Yeah, you're aloud to cry, haha. ;) I'm glad you like it! I know, the last chapter was sad. :( Poor Gazzy!**

**Xx-ThisSucks-xX- I know, right? I feel so bad for her! :(**

**Alright, here's the next chapter! Again, sorry it took so long. :(**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2:<strong>

Fang sat alone, sitting on the roof of an old house, his gang laughing and talking within the old walls, playing 'Truth or Dare' or something as stupid. He looked out at the night sky, the stars glistening against the dark night. The lonely moon sat in the middle of it all, a full moon, staring down at him. He glanced around the field, moving his eyes slowly, using his hawk vision to see if anyone was hiding amongst the shadows. The trees were perfect cover for them, the fields a perfect get away. Here, they could be alone for once. Here, they could be as loud as they wanted with no worries of being discovered. Here, Fang could hear himself think. It was peaceful.

For Fang, too peaceful.

Call it a Max moment, but sometimes, he wondered if anyone was following them. Like seriously stalking them. For years, he had been chased and experimented on, and then chased again after four years of living in solitude. Erasers had followed his every move. Flyboys had gone after them, kidnapping the flock while he and Max were away. M-Geeks had shot at them on their first real date in Hawaii. Gozen had kidnapped them while in Antarctica, not to mention the girl who turned out to be a spy. Every time he was at his comfort zone, they had found him, ruining it. Excuse him for being a little worried and overprotective of his surroundings.

Light footsteps came behind him, making him turn quickly. Behind him, Maya stood on the roof, her tan, white and brown wings folding neatly against her back. "Sorry," she said, pushing her hair out of her face, her magenta highlight blowing in the wind, the only real difference between her and her clone, Max. "It was getting a little wild down there. Thought I'd come up and say hey."

He shrugged, his heart silently beating faster as she sat next to him, her shoulder close to his. Though Maya and Max were two very different girls, Fang still found it difficult not to see Max when he looked at her. Every time she spoke, her husky voice reminded him of Max's. Every time she looked at him, Max flashed through his mind. And every time she smiled, her lips looking so soft and warm...

Fang snapped out of it, looking casually around the woods. He had just had an inner battle with himself, and she would never notice. Another difference between her and Max. Max had known him practically since birth, being raised in the cage right next to his. He had only known Maya for a short period of time, and one of those times when she was trying to kill them all, sending them over to Ari, Max's late half-brother and Jeb's son.

Anyway, when Max and him split up the first time, she had started to act not so betrayish. When he found out that she was still alive and had nothing going on... Well, he jumped at the chance. Which turned out to be one of the biggest mistakes of his life, seeing as how much she reminded him of Max. But it was too late; he had already done it. There was no turning back now.

"So, see any good criminals lately?" Maya asked lamely, crossing her legs and leaning back against her hands, looking out.

"Excuse me?" he asked, glancing at her, raising an eyebrow.

"I asked if you saw anyone out here," she clarified, nodding toward the woods surrounding them. "Criminals? Drug dealers? Who else would come out here in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere?"

No one, he thought. Which was exactly why he picked the area. Drug dealers, he could handle. Serial killers, just give him a hammer, the issue would be over with. Plus, if they were to be attacked, they were far enough away to get any civilians involved or trying to call the cops on them. Something they needed to work on lately. "So far, nothing," he said, answering her question. "Just trees and owls, unless you call a robin that just crapped by my hand a criminal."

"Depends. Did it do it on purpose?" she asked, smirking at him. With Max's lips. Oh, gosh.

"I don't know. It was looking at me kind of funny before it did it. Personally, I think it had a grudge."

She laughed. "Well, then, I salute to you, bird!" she said, looking at the sky and giving a wide salute. "Thank you for doing something us humans would get in trouble for attempting!"

"Hey!" he exclaimed, pushing her arm playfully. "What did I ever do to you?"

"Oh, nothing," she said, her brown eyes bright. "But if that was the hand that had the bird poop on it, then you're dead meat, pal."

"I never even touched it," he said defensively, holding out his hands to prove it.

"No," she agreed, mischief clear in her eyes. She reached up and grabbed his hand in hers, something white and pasty covering their hands. "But now you did."

He looked at his hand in horror as she stood, running and jumping off the roof, flying away and giggling. "I'm going to kill you!" he growled, standing and unfurling his wings to catching up with her.

She laughed, her powerful wings flapping in the wind, so like Max's, yet so different. They played wing tag for a bit, laughing and having fun for what seemed like hours. In the middle of their game, Fang had flown down to the river, rinsing his hand before jumping up and splashing her with the cold liquid. It was a nice, carefree moment.

And -he couldn't believe it- he had fun.

Finally, they went back to the house, panting and laughing in pleasure. The flashlight that Ratchet carried in the house was off, so they assumed the gang was asleep. They landed on the roof, letting their wings extend a moment longer to cool off. "That was fun," Maya gasped, smiling wide.

Fang nodded, unable to hide his grin. It was just like him and Max used to be, except... More fun? "It was a good time," he agreed. "But you have bird poop in your hair now."

She slapped him playfully against the chest, then kept her hand there, hovering over his rapidly beating heart. Fang's hands reached for her waist, stepping tentively towards her. Maya placed her hands behind his head, wrapping them around his neck. They leaned toward each other, slowly, their lips centimeters apart...

Asylum by Disturbed snapped them out of the trance.

Fang pushed her away, his breath coming quickly, and this time not because of the exercise. He grabbed his cell phone from his pocket. "Hello?" he asked, his voice calm, steady.

"Fang?"

Fang's heart stopped. "Max?" he asked, seeing Maya's eyes widen in shock, then narrow. "What's up? Is everyone okay?"

"We're having Angel's funeral tomorrow, Fang," she said simply, not wasting any time. "Just thought you would want to know, in case you want to come or bring your group."

"Of course we'll come," he said, glancing around the woods, feeling the silence around him like a heavy weight. "What time?"

"Around one or two," she answered, oblivious to his rapidly beating heart, what just happened playing over in his mind excessively. "Thanks, Fang. It'll mean a lot to Gazzy, believe me. He's been taking this all horribly, as you could imagine. Ever since she- died." She choked on the last word, sounding extremely tired and warn out.

"It's okay, Max," he assured her through the phone, wishing that he could reach out to her and hold her, despite it all. "We'll be there at around twelve-thirty. Maybe help around a bit?"

"Thanks, Fang," she said, sighing sadly. Everything about her voice sounded tired, completely gone from this world. "Do you need anything, Max?" he asked softly, wanting her to say yes, to ask him to see her, open the door back into her heart, though he knew he didn't deserve it.

"No," she said, crushing his hopes. "Just bring yourselves. We're at the house I took you to after our first real kiss. You know the one." She hung up, leaving him with silence on the other end.

He shut the phone, staring at the glowing screen before it blinked off. Tomorrow they were going to Angel's funeral. He was going to see the flock again, if only for a few hours. He would see Max again.

And, along with her, Dylan.

He looked back at Maya, who was crossing her arms, looking at him expectantly. "Where are we going?" she asked, not in as good of a mood as before.

"Angel's funeral," he responded, putting the phone back in his pocket. He was confused, replaying what could have happened before the phone call in his head, though she would never know. "You better get some sleep," he said, his voice steady, confident. "I'll call you when it's around three."

She humphed, then turned, spreading her wings and jumping down to the ground, opening and shutting the door behind her. Fang stood there, looking once again out at the sky, alone in the universe. His mind was a battlefield, fighting between two girls, one whom he had spent forever with, and one who was trying to. He loved Max, had always loved her, but Maya was beginning to come in, giving him these feelings that he had only felt with Max. Felt only right with Max. But it was coming increasingly easier to have these feeling for Maya, too, and he didn't know why. He didn't understand what had caused the change.

Oh sure, he knew that Max was now Dylan's. He himself had given him permission. But really, a part of him wished that maybe Max didn't want Dylan. Maybe she would pick him instead, leaving Dylan to run off with Maya or someone else, so it would be Max and Fang again. How it was always meant to be.

But no. Everything got screwed up. And now, she liked Dylan, and he liked Maya.

Or did he?

Sitting down, he grabbed his laptop, opening it and turning it on, glancing around him once more. His wallpaper blinked on, a picture of both of the flocks -Max and his- staring at the camera, looking crazy. This was taken without his knowing in France, before the explosion. Max wasn't in it, but he had photo-shopped a picture of her in there, right in between Iggy and Nudge. Gosh, he missed her. He wanted to touch her, hold her hand, feel her lips under his again. She was so different from Maya, so strong. What was up with these mixed feelings? What was going on with him?

He pulled up the internet, deciding to check on his blog, post something before turning it off for the night. Though, what popped up made him stop, staring at the screen nervously, his heart skipping a beat.

A blog post he never wrote was staring at him in big, bold letters, telling everyone to read it. He looked at the comments, seeing that over eighty thousand had already commented, and even more had seen it. He looked back at the message, reading it slowly, letting it sink in.

**To Fang:**

**You thought you were safe, Fangy?**

**Think again.**

**Someone is going to die.**

**And this time, it's for real.**

**It will hit harder than anything you have ever faced.**

But what really got him was the signature. Who had written it. He shut the computer, but the words circled his brain, repeating themselves over and over:

**Sincerely, Mom**

**P.S. She's not dead. Not really.**

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><p><strong>That's all for now! Hope you like it! :)<strong>


	4. Chapter 3

**Hey, guys! So, so, so, so, SOOOO SORRY I haven't updated in weeks! I'm serious, my internet went out so I couldn't go on! I'm SOOOOOOO SOORRRYYY! :( :( :( **

**Here's some comments:**

**Jessica Jay Jackson: Thanks! It sort of came to me while writing. :) Glad you like it!**

**Xx-ThisSucks-xX: I bet he is. ;) **

**Again, I'm SOOO SORRY I haven't updated! Thanks so much to you all for being so patient with me! Here's the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride. James Patterson does. **

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><p>After the phone call with Fang, I sat back on the couch, groaning inwardly. I had sent the flock to bed an hour ago, forcing Gazzy to take a shower before hitting the hay. He had complained a bit, of course, but I put my foot down, and now he finally looks (and smells) a little better.<p>

Which is good, because we have burritos in the freezer, and I really don't feel like smelling that _plus _one-week-in-bed b.o.

Sighing, I rubbed my eyes, exhausted. Everyone seemed to be feeling the same way: tired and extremely cranky. Must have been the week. Thank God it's almost over, I hoped. With Angel's funeral, it might ease some tension. Cause things to go back to reletively normal.

Hey, I did say maybe.

I grabbed the remote from the armrest, deciding to watch a little TV before going to bed. Of course, what would be on at midnight? I hadn't really been keeping up with television since, well, since Fang left. Been too busy with the saving the world gig. The only shows I had really watched was the news, thanks to the Doomsday Group, the psychotic cult whose motto was "Kill the Humans, Save the World". We defeated them back in France, the last place we'd gone.

The place where Angel died.

I settled on a movie called Fast and Furious. The cars looked cool, and the sandy haired guy looked pretty hot. Brian, I think his name was. They were in the middle of a race, the one where he bets his pink slip. Oo, the engine just blew. Stinks to be him.

"Enjoy watching guys cuss while illegally racing?"

I jumped, turning to see Dylan behind the couch, looking down at me. "Almost as much as you like watching the girls with sleezy outfits," I smirked.

Dylan watched as a few girls walked across the screen, their shorts more of a joke than actual clothing. "Eh, they're alright," he said, shrugging. "I'd rather see _you_ in that, though." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

I smirked. "In your dreams," I said, turning back to the TV.

Dylan jumped over the back of the couch, landing beside me. "I can deal with that," he said matter-of-factly. "For now."

I rolled my eyes. "What are you doing up, anyway?" I asked, poking his arm. "I thought I put y'all to bed."

He looked offended. "What? A guy can't stay up an hour to talk to his girlfriend?" he asked innocently.

"That's a little creepish, Dylan," I said as I schooched away from him.

"You're right," he smiled. "I was actually getting a drink, but when I saw you were still awake, I decided to bug you instead."

"That's... better," I mumbled. "I guess you aren't _that_ much of a stalker than. You may stay."

"Thank you." His gaze returned to the TV. There was a party going on, and the bald guy -I think he was played by Vinn Diesel- was shouting at this other guy, grabbing his beer and giving it to the hot one. "Woah, what just happened?" Dylan asked, pointing.

"Don't know," I said, trying to remember. "I think-"

Dylan's mouth crashed down on mine, interrupting me. I closed my eyes, shakily wrapping my arms around him and kissing him back with everything I had. I mean everything. There wasn't enough room to fit paper between us. He wrapped his arms around my waist, tilting his head to go deeper. Which totally brought us _closer_ together, if that were possible.

I don't know how long we sat there, kissing and whispering to each other. Finally, we broke apart, our lips swollen, our breathing ragid. "I'm guessing you don't really care what happened, then?" I asked, my voice shaky.

Dylan didn't seem to have heard me. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, mesmorized.

I sighed, remembering France. "You already told me that."

"I'm not finished," he whispered, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, slowly running his fingers through it before letting it go completely. "You're so strong and powerful," he continued, staring into my eyes, making my heart beat faster. "Yet so kind and sweet. You tear down your enemies as if they're nothing, and then watch over your flock like a mother. You're honest when you need to be, and a real jerk when you have to be." I decided to let that go, knowing his intentions were good. And the fact that, well, I kind of was... "You're a breath-taking leader. A wonderful person. And everything I could ever want.

"In short," he continued, "you're amazing, Max." He leaned closer to me until we were a breath apart. "Totally amazing." Then claimed my mouth with his own, softer this time, but just as sweet.

My heart beat painfully inside of my chest as I gently kissed him back, his words circling my brain. Fang was the only other person who had said anything to me that was remotely like this, and that had been on a goodbye letter. Dylan had said these things to me -directly to me- and for some reason, it felt a hundred times better than anything Fang had ever said to me before. It was special.

Slowly, we broke apart, our lips linguring before breaking apart completely. "I called Fang," I spouted out.

Where the h-e-double toothpick did _that _come from?

Dylan stared at me blankly, probably wondering the same thing. "What?"

"I called Fang," I repeated, then immediately regretted it. Why in the world am I bringing this up? We were just making out, for Pete's sake!

"Uh-huh," he said slowly. "I got that. What about?"

"Angel's funeral," I babbled, despritely wishing I would just shut-up. "I called and asked if he wanted to come tomorrow, to say his goodbyes with the rest of us and to help Gazzy."

Dylan waited. "And?"

"And he said yes," I finished looking into his eyes, waiting to see anger or annoyance flash through them. "He's coming tomorrow."

"Well, good."

I stopped, staring at him blankly. "Good?" I repeated dumbly.

"Yeah, good," he repeated, his face indifferent. When I didn't say anything, he continued. "Fang needs to come. Angel was as much a part of his family then as he is now. Heck, she knew Fang pretty much her whole life. Why not let him come?" He chuckled. "It would be kind of rude to disclude him, anyway. Don't you think?"

I nodded, a smile slowly appearing on my face. _We certainly have come a long way, _I thought wonderously, remembering back when Dylan had first come, the almost immidiate tension between him and Fang. Now, Dylan was not only accepting that Fang would come, but was happy about it. I guess things change pretty quickly then, huh?

Well, the fact that Fang was pretty cozy with Maya right now probably also eased some of the tension, too.

I rested my head on Dylan's shoulder, seeing that the movie was now almost over. "Wanna go to bed?" I asked, all of a sudden feeling how incredibly tired I was.

Dylan glanced at the clock: 1:36. "I guess," he said, kissing my head and resting his head on mine. "I'm still a little thirsty. Want some water?"

"Sure," I said, turning the TV off and standing, holding out my hand to hoist him up. He grabbed it, and pretty soon we were heading to the kitchen, his arm wrapped around my waist, my hand in his.

It was pretty peaceful, all in all.

At least, until I went to bed.

Then, things started to get weird.

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><p><strong>Alright, that's it for now. Again, SORRY! :( I seriously feel bad! Hope you liked the chapter, though. <strong>


	5. Chapter 4

**Well, I can't update a lot anymore, due to the internet being a poop, so I've had to update now any time I can. :p Thanks so much for the comments and for baring with me! **

**Comments:**

**boxtoplad999: Thanks for commenting! I'm glad you like it! :) **

**Alright, here's the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: If I haven't owned Maximum Ride before, what makes you think I own it now?**

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><p>It happened under the cloak of night.<p>

I was asleep, dreaming that Dylan and I were up in a tree on a deserted island somewhere, talking and laughing like we were old friends. It was when he leaned down to kiss me that things went wrong.

Pain errupted in my skull, causing me to sit up and grab my head in my hands, suppressing a scream. A blinding light flashed before my eyes, somehow making the pain even worse. Right when I thought my brain would explode from my skull, sending bloody and slimy chunks everywhere, I saw him.

It was a doctor, looking down at me, his eyes hiding behind glasses. He was wearing scrubs, fit for surgery. Something about this doctor seemed different, though. Familiar.

Suddenly, a feeling of weightlessness came over me, and I was no longer below the doctor's waiting gaze. I was floating off to the side, now watching the doctor instead of being watched. He was focused on a little girl from whom I seemed to have exited, her brown eyes terrified.

The girl was young, maybe three, with long, blonde hair. Her wrists were strapped to the bed using the all famous Velcro straps, her small body barely filling the bed. She looked up at the doctor, small and scared. Her breathing was somewhat eratic, her heartbeat fast. She was nervous. And scared. Terrified.

I could _so_ relate.

I watched as the man finally pulled his gaze from her and turned toward a table holding all of his surgical equipment. He pulled on some gloves, then asked a woman I hadn't noticed was standing there to ready the syringe. The little girl gulped nervously, pulling at her restraints as the nurse did as she was told, grabbing a needle and prepping it properly. The doctor grabbed a wipe and rubbed it over the little girl's arm, ignoring her cries and please.

At this point, I wanted to jump at the doctor and drop kick him for doing this to such a young girl. Then, I would have grabbed the syringe and injected the yellow liquid into both of them, half and half, and see what _they _thought about this.

Unfortunately, I couldn't move. I could only stand there and watch, my head pounding and my stomach clenching, as they put this little girl through indescribable torture.

And, trust me when I say this, far worse.

The nurse placed the syringe into the doctor's waiting hands, watching the girl wearily. The doctor knelt next to her, needle ready, trying to keep her steady as she squirmed and screamed, shying away from the sharp tip. I wanted to scream at her, tell her it was okay. That I would save her. But I couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but watch as the doctor shoved the needle into her awaiting muscle, injecting the yellow liquid into her system.

At first, nothing abnormal happened. She just continued to scream, pleading at them to stop. But I knew how this stuff works, and it didn't always take a second for effect.

Gradually, the little girl's screams came higher pitched, more hoarse. Her eyes went wide, her small fists clenched as sweat pored like tears down her body, her heartbeat racing at an unnatural level. She cried out for it to stop, for the doctor to make the pain stop, but he just stood there, watching with cold curiousity as the nurse took notes on her clipboard, glancing at the girl ever so often.

Just when I thought they would stop this, stop this experiment, the doctor took out another syringe filled with green liquid, prepping it briefly before injecting her in the same arm, the same muscle.

_Is he crazy? _I thought as she screamed louder, her eyes rolling in the back of her head, straining to get out from her restraints. The effect wasn't exactly desired, judging by the nurse's expression. She began to cunvulse, shaking dangerously in the bed, fists clenched so tightly her fingernails broke the skin, blood lightly flowing from her hand onto the bed. It was then the little girl began to choke, white, foamy creme bubbling out of her mouth, falling from the corners of her mouth and down her cheeks onto the pillow beneath. Think of it like that volcano experiment you did for the science fair, where you mix the baking soda and vinager to get it to errupt. Now imagine it a little thicker, like toothpaste, and coming out of her mouth. Now you understand what she was puking up. She tried to sit up, straining frantically against the restraints as she puked, trying not to choke and get it into her lungs.

Immediately, the doctor flipped the bed over, allowing her to puke freely, the cream splattering beneath her on the hard floor. The smell was nauseating, even to me, and it took everything in me not to let it all out right there. (_Can _you puke in a dream?) Then, the doctor grabbed yet another syringe -this one filled with white liquid- and shot it straight into her stomach, the long needle entering her completely before draining all of its contents into her and exiting. Within a minute, the little girl relaxed, her eyes fluttering shut as her ragid breathing calmed. The doctor left the bed flipped upside down for a few minutes before flipping her over, injecting her with a saline solution to keep her hydrated. The nurse scribbled quickly away, then finally clipped her pen shut and turned her attention to the doctor. "We almost lost her," she said, her voice fading as I felt myself floating away, slowly leaving this scene.

The doc looked at the little girl warrily. "Batcheldor will not be pleased," he quipped as the world turned black, sending me away from this nightmare.

The last thing I saw before waking was the little girl, numbers sewn into her gown:

**10086**

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

I snapped out of it in a shock, tears streaming down my cheeks, drenching my face. Nudge lay asleep in front of me, oblivious to what had just taken place in my head. The pain had melted down to a dull throb, the nausea beyond overwhelming. I jumped up, running to the bathroom and slamming he door, puking my guts up into the toilet.

For once, no one bothered me as I stood up shakily, flushing the technicolored chunks down and dropping the lid as I went and leaned against the sink, staring at my reflection. I turned on the water, splashing my face and brushing my teeth, getting the awful taste and smell out of my mouth. As I spit into the sink, the foamy paste reminded me too much of the girl's creamy vomit and I almost heaved again. Rinsing it down the drain, I turned off the water, staring at my reflection once more. My eyes were dull, empty, my face pale. I looked like a ghost, and I knew why.

That was at the School, the place where we had grown up, then ran from so long ago, and continue to run from now. That operating room was in the School. That doctor worked there. I knew that doctor. Dr. Steven Rodriguez, the whitecoat who had oversaw so many of our experiments. I knew him just about as well as I knew Jeb. What happened in my head _actually happened._

But that wasn't the only thing that got me.

No, it was the girl: 10086. I knew her. Know her. Have known her my entire life.

That girl was... Is...

Me.

_Bingo, Max, _my Voice said, making me jump. _Welcome back to the School._

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><p><strong>That's it for now! Kind of cliff-hanger-ish. Hope you liked it! Please review!<strong>


	6. Chapter 5

**BEFORE YOU GO ON, GO BACK TO THE PROLOGUE! I CHANGED IT AROUND THE END! GO NOW!**

**Alright, guys, here's the next chapter! Sorry again that it took a while. Dumb internet. :p**

**Comments:**

**boxtoplad999: Thanks! I'm glad it's peaking your interest, haha! :)**

**Here's the next chapter!**

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><p>Angel sat on the bed, wrists bound with Velcro Straps, keeping her in place. She looked around the room, now able to see after a few days of healing since the explosion. She didn't know what day it was, nor what time, nor where she was at. All she knew was that she was here, on this bed, unable to move or go anywhere.<p>

For Angel, it was like her own, personal torture chamber.

What made it worse was the fact that she was unable to use her powers, especially reading minds. They told her that this room blocked out all brainwaves that caused her mind to wander, thus keeping her conscience firmly locked in place. She hated it, hated the loss of control she once had over almost every person who walked through the door. Now, all she could do was sit and take their word for everything they said, no matter how unbelievable it seemed.

Angel sighed, fighting back a tear that threatened to fall. She missed Max. Missed the flock. She even missed Fang's Gang, no matter how weird or new they were. They had fought alongside the each other, risking death and more to take down the Doomsday Group. No matter how many times she tried to deny it, they were a family now, and she trusted them.

Too bad the attempt to take down the Doomsday Group proved futile, though.

Since her coming here, Angel had learned a few things (from what was _said_, unfortunately) that proved this cult wasn't through with their attempts to 'save the world' yet. Sure, the flock had taken down the head in France, but the group had recruted so many kids and mutants that the few hundred that they saved barely mattered. All the flock did was hack off one of the heads on the Hydra, and it wasn't long before it healed completely and grew two more ugly faces. Angel shuddered. It was no wonder that the Doomsday Group's leader -the One Light- didn't seem too concerned with the latest events. Angel was told that he was already regrouping, already expanding, but this time under a different name. They were no longer the Doomsday Group, but something else. With that latest twist, it wouldn't be long before he would gain the power back once again, saving the world by killing the humans within it.

Also, killing Max and the flock and Fang's Gang, if he had his way.

A single tear fell from her cheek, her frustration excelling over the fact that she couldn't wipe it off. Angel knew this. She knew all that was going on, and she couldn't do a thing to transfer the information to Max. She had tried to contact Max multiple times, but must have failed each time, since nothing seemed to be changing. Angel wondered if they thought she was dead, lying cold and stiff somewhere in Paris. They probably did, since Angel's shoe was blown off at the explosion, all torn and bloody from a gash on her inner thigh that had blood pouring down her leg. She could still remember the pain, the panic as she blacked out and woken up in this horrible place. The wires they had strapped onto her were no longer there. The only wire on her was an IV strapped just below her wrist, filling her with who knows what. She also had a cover over her finger that monitored her heartbeat. She was alone. Cold and alone. And it was all. Her. Fault.

_Think about it, _her conscience told her, _you broke up Max and Fang. You almost got the flock killed. You helped kill Fang, even if he was resurrected. And then when you try to set things straight, you end up getting captured who knows where by this derranged killer called _theOne Light. _Face it, Angel. You're a disaster waiting to happen. You do nothing right but fail. You're a failure, Angel. _There was a faint sardonic laugh. _A little, horrible failure. _

_Shut up, _she told herself, tears running down her cheeks. _Just shut up. _

_Why? _her conscience responded. _You know it's true. _

_I said, shut up! _Angel screamed in her head, hiccupping as the salty tears fell from her cheeks onto the pillow beneath. She hated this! Hated showing weakness, even if it was just to her own voice in her mind. She was _not _weak! She was a strong, couragious...

Seven year old.

Just like Max had taught her to be.

Angel relaxed in the bed, her sorrow and remorse filling her. Max was right. Max was pretty much always right. Why had she fought her? How could she honestly think that she could do a better job than the great Maximum Ride? Sure, Angel could try to help her, but in the end, she was still wrong. Still alone. Still a failure.

The _psh_ of a door sliding open surprised Angel, and she once again wished desperately that she could rid herself of the evidence of tears from her face. A woman walked in, flocked by two other girls, each wearing black jumpsuits like you see in those spy movies. The lead woman stepped up to the foot of Angel's bed, stopping while the two other girls guarded the door as it slid shut behind them. Silence engulfed them, stretching for so long that Angel found she had time to study these three intruders rather closely.

The lead woman wore a blue business suit, a white T-Shirt showing from beneath the top. Her long, red hair came down to her shoulders, her brown eyes studying Angel closely. She didn't move, just stood there, watching Angel, hands behind her back. When it became apparent that she wouldn't speak, Angel's gaze lingered over to the girls guarding the door. The one on the right had tan skin, her brown eyes almond shaped. Her long, black hair was tied back in a French braid, the length barely passing her shoulders. Her hands were folded behind her back, her feet shoulder-width apart. It reminded Angel of the stance the flock was forced to stand in with the Navy. The girl looked no older than sixteen, but was no doubt an expert in combat that far excelled her age. Her eyes were steady as they stared ahead. Fierce.

The girl to her left stood in the similar stance, but that was the only comparison of the two. She had red hair, which was also held in a French braid, like her friend's. Her blue eyes stared straight ahead, watching some invisible foe. Her skin was peach colored, like Angel's, and she could be no older than ten. She might have been young, but her face was fierce, her stance stiff. Alert.

Angel felt bad for her.

Finally, the woman before her spoke, causing Angel to look back at her, giving her her full attention. "Hello, Angel," the woman began, her voice hard, yet soft, like Anne's was when she would scold them. "I see you were crying. Are you okay, sweety?" she asked in what sounded like forced sincerity.

Angel swallowed, not speaking.

"I see," she responded, glancing down at the blanket at the edge of the bed and grabbing the bed post with both hands. "Angel," she began, her voice softer. "You were told when you came here that you were special, correct?"

Angel blinked, silent.

"Well, honey," the woman continued, looking up at her. "The truth is, you _are _special. _Very _special. Even more special than the great Maximum Ride."

"I could never be greater than Max," Angel snarled, her voice weak.

"Oh, but you can, sweetheart," the woman said, releasing the bed post and crossing the length of the bed until she was at Angel's head. She reached out and pushed a strand of Angel's hair out of her eyes, placing it behind her ear. She wiped a stray tear from her face, stroking her cheeks lovingly. "You already are," she whispered, her voice hypnotic, like a summer breeze blowing from a tree, invading Angel's lungs and making her breathe easier.

Angel swallowed, lost in the woman's voice. Who was she? Was she an angel from heaven, sent to rescue her from this horrible place? That would be nice. Angel would love to be saved by a real, life angel. "Who are you?" she asked softly.

"Someone who can help you," she responded, her voice pulling Angel in. "Are you sick of being experimented on, honey? Do you want to leave this place for good?"

Angel nodded, extatic as she strained to get out of the Velcro straps.

"Not yet, my sweet," the motherly woman cooed, placing her hand over Angel's. "First, we must get some things settled, and then I'll come back and rescue you from this horrible place. I'll take you to some place warm and safe, where you can run and play and fly all day. You could be free, Angel," she said, smiling.

"Who else will be there?" Angel asked, caught up in this beautiful dream. "Will they be there, too?" she asked, motioning to the girls.

"Yes, Angel," the woman said. "Them, along with plenty other girls and boys around your age, dying to have some fun."

Angel felt nervous for a second, but then it just melted away with a glance into the woman's eyes before her. "Will Max and the flock be there, too?" she asked softly, her eyes drooping. "And Fang?"

"Yes, Angel," she heard the woman say as her eyes shut. "And you'll help us bring them to this wonderful place."

"How long... Must I wait?" Angel drowned out, barely being able to speak from the fog in her mind.

"Not long, precious," the motherly woman whispered, kissing her lightly on the head. "Not long at all."

Angel wanted to respond, to thank the woman for giving her some hope, but she was already nodding off, her mouth unable to move except for forming a small smile. She dimly heard the woman say goodnight, then tell the girls it was time to go, but Angel was already gone, the words _precious _and _sweetheart_ guiding her into the world of dreams.

It was the calmest sleep she had ever slept.

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><p><strong>That's all for now! Please tell me what you think! :)<strong>


	7. Chapter 6

**I am SOOOOO SORRY I haven't written in, like, just about a month! I'm so, so, so, so, soooo sorry! I feel so freaking rotten, guys! I was on such a block for this chapter! Seriously, NOTHING sounded right! At all! Seriously, I don't even know if _this _version sounds good, but my sis likes it, so there. So here it is, the long awaited sixth chapter. Angel's funeral. :'( Sorry again I made you wait this long. Again, I am SOOO SORRY! :( **

**Comments:**

**Jessica Jay Jackson: No, they were not killing Fang's Gang or the flock (not yet, at least). You've got a lot of good questions (and good points) each of with will be answered, so please hang tight! :)**

**boxtoplad999: I'm glad it's getting intriguing. ;) That's what I'm hoping for, haha! XD**

**Alright, here's the next chapter! (Again, SORRY!)**

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><p>Death is never easy, never something we can expect. It takes us by surprise, knocking the breath out of us, tearing out a part of us and stomping it on the ground. Death doesn't just kill one person, it kills everyone affected by it. Especially when the one whom Death consumes was far too young to be taken.<p>

I stood over Angel's grave in the woods behind my mom's house, containing the only thing we could find left of her: her shoe. Gazzy stood beside me, silent tears falling from his face. In his mind, his sister's death no doubt played over and over, still so fresh to him. Still so new, though it had happened a week ago.

It seemed like just yesterday.

Iggy stood beside him, placing a reassuring hand on Gazzy's shoulder, making sure he knew his big brother was there for him. Standing beside them was Nudge, tears running silently down her cheeks, her beautiful, chocolate brown eyes red and puffy, her hand in mine for reassurance. Total stood at the foot of the grave, silently pawing the dirt, hoping that it wasn't true. That Angel, the one who had saved him from the Institute, wasn't dead. That her bloody and torn shoe wasn't buried underneath the dirt. In all honesty, Total owed Angel his life. If it wasn't for her, he'd probably be who knows where, looking for food like a stray-mutant-pup, and Angel knows that wouldn't have blown over well. Total, the proper, french-speaking, flying mutant dog, digging for scraps like a common stray. Poor dog would've died if that happened.

Unfortunately, Angel beat him to it.

Dylan stood beside me, a comforting arm wrapped around my shoulders, holding me close. He had barely known Angel, and yet he still looked sadly at the grave, as if he had lost a long time friend. It made my heart break even more.

Turning only my head, I glanced over at Fang's Gang, each of their faces drawn and sad, though barely any of them even knew Angel, besides Fang and Maya, of course. Kate and Star were holding back tears, their eyes red with effort. Even Holden looked upset, our little starfish that saved my life back in France was now trying very hard to hold back tears. Only Rachet seemed to be have a better time at keeping his face impassive, though it was probably because his sunglasses was covering his eyes, and his mouth was turned into a stern frown. He glanced at me, and I quickly glanced away, back at his elders.

Fang and Maya stood together, at the back of the group. Maya's face was closed off, her eyes glazed as she looked at the grave intently, as if Angel would somehow rise from that little shoebox, fully formed and well. I could tell that she knew I was looking at her, but her eyes never left that little box of dirt with two sticks sticking out like a cross standing over it. Not even when a bee flew by her hair, landing on her shoulder than flying away. Not when rain began to poor hard over our heads, matching everyone's moods. Not even when lightning struck, flashing so her features were more prominent in the dark, wet air. She never once moved her gaze from that grave.

And I sort of knew why.

See, a few months ago, Maya had been created to replace me. To take over my flock and then lead them back into the School and have the whitecoats deal with them. But, unfortunately for them, I got out of the little hell hole they kept me in and came back just in time to see my flock held captive by their fears and a bleeding Angel being held hostage by a lookalike me. Ari had bitten her arm, and Maya had made sure she didn't run off when he did. To say that Maya and Angel had an interesting history would be an understatement. But that's usually how it goes around here.

As for Fang... Well, he was Mr. Dark and Silent for a reason. He had barely spoken since he had gotten here, only exchanging a few 'hello's' and pats on the shoulder for consolation. Once his Gang got here, he had been especially closed off, glancing around ever so often, mostly keeping to himself. That's how he gets, though, when things go wrong. He closes in on himself, not talking to everyone, just... _stays _there, not causing trouble. It was like a defense mechanism.

He was also looking at me pretty often. Not out of anger. Not out of depression or something. Just, looking. Thinking.

It was pre-Antarctica all over again.

Finally, I looked back down at the grave, gazing at the makeshift cross. Carved in the horizontal stick was Angel's name, a halo on each side. Nudge had come up with the idea, and we had agreed, thinking it best. When it was time to bury the shoe, Gazzy had been the one to place it in the grave, only a little reluctant over losing the one thing he had left from his sister. Iggy and Fang had each helped bury the shoe, digging the dirt into the hole and sealing it forever. Iggy had struck the cross in, with the help of Gazzy and Nudge, and even Holden, whom volunteered out of the blue out of respect for Angel. It was obvious that he had a soft spot for her, especially since he was the one who first denied the plan to send Angel out in danger in the first place. We let him go ahead, knowing Angel wouldn't have really cared.

Standing there, the rain pouring off my face, I began to reminisce all the memories I had had with Angel. Angel was my baby. I had literally taken care of her ever since we had escaped from the School, feeding her, changing her, watching her grow up. I had been there when she found out that she could read minds, breathe under water, talk to fish. When she was kidnapped, I stopped at nothing to get her back. When she went psycho, I hoped with all my might that she would turn back to the way she was, the way we were. When she started acting like her old self, I was overjoyed!

When she died, it tore a hole in my heart that didn't need to get any bigger since the second time Fang left.

Looking around, I saw the effect it put on the flock, the sadness and pain that the Doomsday Group put upon us. They killed my baby. They killed Gazzy's biological sister. They tore a very important and loved member of the flock away. My flock. They killed Angel.

All of my tears seemed to dry up then, making the only thing falling hard down my cheeks be the rain. The arm around my shoulders that belonged to Dylan didn't seem to matter anymore. Cold rage filled my heart, revenge making my eyes grow hard, my vision red. I've said this once, and I'll say it again. You don't mess with momma bear's cubs, especially not if you want to live.

Shrugging off Dylan's arm, I walked up to the grave, dropping a flower I had found out back; a white carnation, Angel's favorite. In a low, shaky voice, I said, "I will avenge your death, Angel." The others around me straightened, knowing what this meant. We were going back. We were going to take down the Doomsday Group, or whatever they were called now, once and for all. For Angel.

For Ella.

For my mom.

For the world.

"I swear to you, Angel, I will."

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><p><strong>That's it for now! Please, please tell me what you think! I, personally, like the end with Max and her mamma bear comment. I thought, 'Oh, yeah! Here comes good ol' Max again!' XD Anyway, hate? Like? Eh? Please review!<strong>


	8. Chapter 7

**Hello again! I'm sorry I haven't written in forever! Really, I am!**

**Oh, and by the way: I EDITED THIS CHAPTER! It's way longer than it originally was, so I hope you guys like it more! (I did. Seriously, the last one stunk. :p) Hope you like it! Please reread before you move on to the next chapter! Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

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><p>He sat in the backseat of the car, fiddling nervously with his thumbs. Dr. Valencia Martinez sat beside him, staring out at the rain, quiet. Ever since her turn into The Cause, she had been unusually quiet and closed off, a dark contrast to how she used to be when she met her daughter again, Maximum Ride. She had been happy then, more content and full of life. What had happened to her?<p>

Or was she always this way?

Jeb sighed, fidgeting restlessly in his seat. He wasn't always this way. He used to be levelheaded, stern, knowing exactly what to do in any and all situations. Ever since he had joined The Cause, however, he had become more fidgety. Scared. Second guessing himself at ever turn. But that was because now he had more to live for. Now, he had to be perfect. He had to act and feel and think the way that the One Light wanted him to act and feel and think. Though he would never admit it, it was sometimes torture. If he wasn't careful, a man could go mad under the tension. But that was where the better man is separated from the weaker. If you could survive the torture, you were worthy of the One Light. If you couldn't...

You were worse than trash.

That's why Jeb fidgeted. That's why Dr. Martinez was so closed off emotionally. They each were afraid of becoming outcasts, freaks.

Rejects.

The car lumbered onward, the taxi paint fooling anyone who looked. It had taken them from the helicopter and was now transporting them towards Valencia's house itself, the place where the flock had taken solitude in. Jeb didn't understand why they had picked that place as a safe house. Maybe to wait expectantly for their return? Didn't they know that, of all places, this would be the one that their enemies would look to first? Were they becoming stupid?

Jeb gasped, catching himself. Not stupid. _Flawed._ They were all flawed. But not Jeb or Valencia, though. They were perfect. They were a part of the One Light. They found purpose.

Jeb's spine tingled at the thought.

Finally, the car turned, entering the Martinez's land. Trees hung low over the road, just far enough away so the branches wouldn't smack against the car's roof. Jeb's heartbeat quickened as they neared their destination. _Almost there,_ he thought, squeezing a napkin he found on the floor between his fists, not caring where it had been. _Almost there._

The car pulled up to the curb, then stopped. "Get out," came a gruff voice from the driver. He took a cigar from his mouth and blew a ring of smoke through his lips and into the air, smiling a yellow-teeth-filled smile back at them.

"Thank you for your services," Jeb said, anxiously pushing Valencia out of the car to rid himself of the second-hand smoke odor. The man only grunted in reply, then drove away just as Jeb shut the door, bag limp in his hand. They stood there, holding their bags, standing in front of Valencia's house, silent. They glanced at each other, not knowing what to do or say.

Turning, they headed for the house, knowing that Max and her flock lay on the other side, awaiting their return. Jeb picked up his bag higher, so as not to knock against the steps as they walked up toward the front door, the faces of those he loved doing their chores or watching T.V. Doing whatever the flock did.

Jeb sighed. He really did miss them.

Going up to the door, he glanced at Dr. Martinez. She nodded her head impatiently, and he knocked on the door, stepping back to wait for Max or Iggy to open the door, for it wouldn't be anyone else. But no one came. He knocked again, louder this time, but still nothing. Turning back to Dr. Martinez, he shrugged, showing defeat. Sighing loudly, she stepped in front of him and pounded on the door, rattling it against the hinges. "Max!" she called inside, her voice nice, motherly. "Max, honey, open the door!"

"What the heck are _you_ two doing here?"

They turned, seeing Max with the flock behind her, followed closely by Fang's Gang, to Jeb's surprise. They exited from the woods, their close wet and muddy from their adventures in the woods along with the rain. On closer inspection, Jeb saw that most of them had red, puffy eyes, looking up at them with sad, withdrawn faces, as if they were walking from a funeral. _I wonder who died?_ Jeb thought humorlessly.

"Max," Dr. Martinez said, dropping her bag and stepping off the steps, running toward her daughter with wide arms, a complete transformation from the woman whom Jeb had sat with in the car only five minutes ago. "Max, dear. Are you alright? You look like you've come from a mud fight, hon. What's wrong?"

Max stepped away from her motherly welcome, glaring at the two nervously. "Where. The heck. Have you two. _Been?_" she asked again, each word clipped and angry. Suspicious.

Dr. M turned to me, her face confused. "What does she mean, Jeb?" she asked, her eyes cold only to him. "Jeb, weren't we just away on a little trip? Isn't that what this was all about?"

Jeb stood there, unsure how to proceed. He looked at the flock, then at Fang's Gang, and immediately he knew her plan. Judging by all the glares he was getting and the cold satisfaction coming from Valencia's eyes, she wanted them to think that she was somehow kidnapped. Brainwashed by him and not having a clue just where she had come from or what she did. He raised his hands in a 'Whoa, Nelly' gesture, taking a step back nervously. "Wait a minute," he began. "I didn-"

"So, you _did_ kidnap her?" Max asked, her eyes throwing daggers as she glared at me.

"I didn't do any such thing!" Jeb exclaimed, dropping his hands and pointing at Dr. Martinez helplessly. "She came willingly! I asked her if I wanted to come, and she went!"

"Jeb, what are you talking about?" she asked, sounding lost, but her face couldn't be more focused. "You told me we were going to Hawaii. You said we were taking the flock. That's why I agreed, right?" She looked out at the flock, shrugging. "When we got there, and he told me that you weren't coming after all, I wanted to come back immediately, especially after everything with the plane incident. But Jeb wouldn't let me."

"She's lying!" Jeb exclaimed, feeling his face go red with anger. How could she do this to him? How could she lie and betray him like that? They were in this together! Right?

"Finally, he took me to this big, white building," she continued, ignoring his outburst, "and then... Well, I can't remember anything after that. Can you, Jeb?" she asked, pointedly looking at him.

He glared at her, his breath coming in huffs. How dare she pull this. How dare she turn the flock and everyone against him for her own gain. How dare she!

Max looked between the two of them, her eyes unsure of who to trust. Jeb wanted to grab her shoulders and tell her to look at the facts. Tell her to look at what Dr. Martinez was saying from all angles, comparing it with what she knows and drawing a plausible explanation from it. Do like he had taught her to do. But he couldn't. If he did do such an outburst, especially reminding her that _he_ taught her such things, she would most likely push him away again, siding with her mother just because she hated him. It was a small flaw, but one that would, clearly, cost her dearly.

Instead, he just turned to Max, raising his hands in a pleading gesture. "Please, Max," he began, practically going on his knees in desperation. "Please, you have to believe me! I did no such thing."

"Why should I believe you?" she demanded, glaring at him once more, her eyes careful, calculating.

"With all do respect," Jeb began, motioning to her mother. "Why should you trust _her_?"

He knew his mistake once he finished making it. Max's gaze hardened, then turned to her mother, still looking like she was trying to come to a good decision. "You both will stay here for now," she decided, ignoring Jeb and nodding for the house. "But you will both be put under surveillance, and you will not be aloud to go _anywhere_ on your own, understood?"

Jeb and Valencia nodded, Valencia looking around nervously, as if she had just noticed something amiss. "Where's Ella?" she asked, looking at Max expectantly.

"Gone," was her simple reply. "Come on," she said as she walked toward the door, everyone following her.

Jeb came up with her. "What were you kids doing just now?" he asked. "If it's okay to ask," he clarified after receiving glares from different members of the now extended family.

Max stopped at the door, her head bowed in remorse. Slowly, she turned her head so she was looking straight at him, then at Valencia. "Angel's funeral," was her quiet response. She turned back toward the door. "She's dead."

Valencia gasped. I stopped, frozen in my tracks. Not out of shock, though, but out of confusion. Angel was dead?

"No she's not," he said, looking at Max like she sprouted two heads. "I just saw her reports yesterday. She's in the hospital at The Center, right?"

Max froze, then spun around, staring at him in shock. The flock did the same, not moving, barely breathing as they processed the news. Gazzy seemed the most shocked, his face a mix of disbelief and wonder. _Could it be true?_ His eyes seemed to read.

Jeb was thoroughly surprised. They didn't know? Finally, Max broke the silence, asking the one question that no doubt was on everyone's mind: "_What?_"

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><p><strong>Well, what did you think? Better than the last version? Worse? About the same? Please tell me what you think! <strong>

**Now, to write more...**


	9. Chapter 8

**Hey again! Whoa! (Dodges pitchfork.) Okay, I know you guys are mad, bu- (Runs from flamethrower.) Was that really necessary? Now, as I was saying, I know you're mad, but I was on such a block it wasn't even funny! Last night, I was laying in bed, debating whether I should even continue or not, when I thought, "Hey. I've already dumped two stories. I had such good ideas for this story it wasn't even funny. I still have good ideas for this story. I am NOT dumping it! And that's that!" So now I am bound and determined to finish this dang story before the new Maximum Ride book comes out (in August), so I've got to get a move on. I WILL NOT QUIT! **

**Before you read:**

**IMPORTANT: GO BACK TO PREVIOUS CHAPTER AND REREAD THAT CHAPTER! I CHANGED IT, AND IT EFFECTS THIS CHAPTER GREATLY! GO READ, NOW!**

**Alright, time to move on.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride.**

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><p>Angel. Wasn't. Dead?<p>

The words kept repeating themselves inside my mind, causing me to freeze and fully grasp the meaning of that phrase. Angel's not dead. _Angel's_ not dead. Angel, my baby, was not dead.

You could say it as many times as you want. It's still unbelievable.

And if it was coming from anyone but Jeb, I would have jumped for joy.

Be that is it did come from the devil's spawn, I turned to Jeb, asking the one question that I'm sure was on everyone's mind at the moment. "_What?_"

Jeb looked at me as if he were completely confused over my naïvity over the situation. "You mean you didn't know?" he asked, ringing his hands nervously.

"No, we did not know!" I exclaimed, immediately turning and walking right in front of him, standing eye level with him thanks to my unnatural height. I stared him down, my eyes demanding answers. "Now, answer me this one question, and if I find out you're lying, I swear to whatever higher power there is that I will kill you slowly with a rusty knife and chicken wire. Understood?"

Jeb gulped nervously, his Adam's apple rising and falling in his throat before nodding his understanding. "She's alive," he said, his voice shaky under my red-hot gaze.

I took a step back, unbelieving. My shock must have spread, because it seemed like a blast of wind hit all of us, the entire flock backing up in one step, each of their faces wanting to believe, but also not wanting to get their hopes up. "How do we know you're telling the truth?" I asked him, my voice hard.

Jeb had no answer at first, his gaze lingering over each and every one of us before he shrugged his shoulders. "Because you have to?" It was more of a question than I statement.

"Mom?" I asked, spinning to my mother, my eyes narrowing slightly.

Mom had been staring at Jeb, unmistakable rage in her eyes. Upon hearing me, though, she turned to me and raised her hands in a helpless gesture, looking totally lost during this whole exchange. "I don't know anything," she said, nodding to Jeb. "Remember, I don't remember anything but going to a large building in Hawaii. Everything else is Jeb's department, dear." She shrugged, a little too modestly.

I continued to stare at her, checking for honesty in her brown, Hispanic eyes. I noticed that since she had came here, she seemed different, less soft and more closed off. The glances she kept shooting at Jeb didn't help her case. I had no clue how to read her anymore, and that in itself worried me. Not just because I had to check for her honesty, but I had no clue which person she was anymore: the mother I once knew, or this person who seemed so full of rage?

Wearily, I turned and looked at Fang, who was staring at me with expressionless black eyes. I gave him a message through our eyes, showing him my own indecision on the matter, and he just shrugged, showing it was my call. I rolled my eyes, then looked at Dylan, who had seen our silent conversation and was frowning at us. I turned back to Jeb, ignoring both Dylan and Fang and everyone else. Gosh knows I really don't have time for this. "Change of plans," I told him in my leaderly way, knowing that through this my decision was final, and whatever happened hereafter was on my head. "You will stay, but you will also tell us everything. And I mean, _everything._ From the time you left to the time you went to whatever building Mom was talking about to the time you brushed your teeth at night. You will tell me details, issues, reports, whatever I want to hear. Or," I paused as I saw Jeb try to interrupt me, "you can leave right now, all alone, with no one to accompany you as you go wherever the heck you're called to. Capise?" I raised my eyebrow at him.

He hesitated a second longer, then nodded.

"Good." Turning to my mom, I repeated the same thing with her. "I know you don't remember everything, mom, but we need all the help we can get. You understand that, right?" She nodded. "Then you agree?"

Mom nodded, not even taking an extra breath between the question and her answer.

"Good." I turned to the flock, looking at Gazzy, who was staring at me, hope in his bright, blue eyes. This was it, and he knew it. This could be the turning point in our story. We could finally have Angel back in our possession. For good.

Unfortunately, this could also be one miserable joke that could backfire on us later.

Motioning him over, I patted his shoulder, letting him know to not get his hopes up too high, in case this will all just hurt us. He nodded, but I could still see the ray of hope, the almost impossible odds calculating inside of his head.

Turning, I headed for the door, opening it and letting the flock and Gang inside. Looking back, I saw that Jeb and Dr. Martinez were still behind, standing and staring at each other, a whole conversation in their eyes. Mom looked scolding while Jeb looked... Furious. And confused. Finally, I said, "You coming?" jolting them out of their silent battle. They quickly followed behind.

Time for an interrogation.

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><p><strong>Alright, what did you think? Like? Hate? Eh? Please review! <strong>

**P.S. Are you a fan of My Last Goodbye? I just updated that, too. So, if you wanna read that, too, there you go. :)**


	10. Chapter 9

**Well, here I am again, after a very long break. :p I apologize once again for my tardiness in writing. Hopefully, it won't happen like this ever again. (Glares angrily at self.)**

**Alright, here is the next chapter! **

**Disclaimer: Still don't own this. Probably never will. :'( (Though, with my _constant updating skills _[ha-ha], you guys probably don't want me going anywhere near James Patterson's legit stories, haha. *Rolls eyes at self*)**

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><p>"That <em>stupid,<em> _arrogant, _son of a no-good _woman_..." the woman screeched through clenched teeth, glaring at the monitors, staring as Jeb and Valencia walked through the door, Maximum Ride shutting it behind them. He had done it. He had actually _told_ them about Angel's health! Jeb Batcheldor _told them!_

Oh, he would get it for this.

Turning to her phone, she pressed the same button she had used twenty-four hours earlier to bring Batcheldor into her office. The biggest mistake of her her life, she realized. "Bring me Gunther-Hagen," the woman ordered, her voice hard as she relayed her message.

"Right away, ma'am," a female voice said through the intercom.

She broke the signal, sitting back in her seat heavily, sighing in anger. That Jeb. That stupid, stupid Jeb! Why would he tell them? Why would he even _think_ about telling the flock such a thing? Did he not know the full stage of the situation? The severe consequences he has just now unleashed?

Obviously not. Else he wouldn't have said anything.

Rubbing her head, she moaned back a curse, her temples pounding. She should have told him, she knew now. She should have covered that with their briefing. She should have said something! But she didn't. And now, she'd have to fix it.

The buzz sounded, opening the door to reveal Dr. Gunther-Hagen, head of the genetic-engineering department. He looked at her, his bushy mustache annoying the woman, though she would never say so. He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, his hands behind his back, looking at her expectantly. "You called?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

The woman rose, sitting up in her large chair, radiating the power she held in her grasp. "I did," she said simply, folding her hands and looking up at him. "How are you?"

The man seemed taken aback by the question. "Fine," he answered. "And yourself?"

She raised her hand dismissively, smiling a smile she didn't feel like sharing but was used to given her position. "Fine, just fine," she said with fake cheer that only she could detect.

Dr. Gunther-Hagen shifted from foot-to-foot nervously in the silence that followed. "So, what is it you want?" he asked finally.

The woman smiled again, then stood, looking at the monitors on the wall. "You remember Angel, correct?" she asked, watching as the children interrogated the adults.

Dr. G-H nodded, looking at the monitors as well. "Her condition is better. She should be able to join the Forces in two, maybe three days."

"Jeb told them."

He turned to her, not understanding. "Told them..."

"That she is alive."

The doctor's eyes widened in shock. "He didn't!"

She nodded. "He did."

"He can't do that!" Dr. G-H exclaimed, staring at the screens in shock.

"He could, and he did," she said simply, stepping away from the monitors to sit back at her desk, flipping through her paperwork to find a file.

Dr. Gunther-Hagen shook his head in a daze, amazed by what he had just heard. "What do we do, then?" he asked, turning back to her. "If he tells them of Angel's location, and they attempt a rescue... We can't allow that!" he said finally, his eyes wide.

"Exactly," she said, picking up a file and handing it to the doctor. "Which is why we must fix this mess before it's too late."

The doctor took the file and looked over it, calculating the results of the plan before him. "It wouldn't work," he said, handing the file back to her. "It's too soon. She's barely ready to walk yet, let alone carry on a fight with the likes of those fighters. We have to give her time to heal-"

"We don't _have_ time," the woman insisted, taking it back and waving it between them. "Thanks to Batcheldor, we have to force the plan early, or else risk exposure and, with it, the failure of the altogether Goal." She dropped the folder on her desk, sending a wave of air around her. "Now you will go and get her ready for discharge! Understood, doctor?"

He paused a minute, then nodded, clearly not liking the idea. She ignored the concern on his face. She didn't pay him to _like_ her ideas, she payed him to carry them out. And he knew it. "I will do so," he said, turning to leave.

"Before you go," she called, stopping him at the door. "I need you to give me Dylan's original files, the ones before he was actually created, if you please?"

The Doctor turned to her, looking confused. "Why do you need Dylan's papers?" he asked.

She just shrugged. "Because I do. Can I trust you with that simple assignment?"

He nodded after a moment's hesitation, pulling the door open. "You can, ma'am," he said. "Is that all?"

"Yes, you may leave." The door shut behind him. She turned back to the monitors, watching as Max asked Jeb question after question. She grabbed her headphones, turning them on so that she may listen to their conversation. Shaking her head, she let out a deep breath. _What am I going to do with you, Batcheldor?_ she thought to herself.

The more she thought about it, the more she knew. And a small smile stretched across her face.

_Perfect._

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><p><strong>That's all for now! Comment if you would like. Like? Hate? Eh? Please tell me what you think. :)<strong>


	11. Chapter 10

**Alright, here's another chapter! (Wow! Two chapters in two days? It's a mirable! Xp)**

**Yeah... I'm done now.**

**Special shout-out to AnikaandAj! I seriously didn't think _anyone_ would review, so thanks so much for taking the time to! This chapter's for you, hope you like it! XD**

**Okay, here you guys go!**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own. **

**Hey, side note: Have you guys ever read _Hush, Hush_ by Becca Fitzpatrick? What about _Divergent_ by Veronica Roth? You haven't? Well, then get out there and _read them right now!_ Seriously, if you want some action with just a dash of romance (with a _seriously_ hot guy), then go out and read _Divergent_ right now! I personally, couldn't put the thing down, and it was past midnight when I finally had to call it a night, it was so good!_ Insurgent_ (book 2) comes out next week, so go out there and get it, dang it! **

**If you love Fallen Angels and love a good romance with a mysterious bad boy (sighs dreamily) and a crazy friend (Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! We all have them.), then go out and read _Hush, Hush_! Very good novel, and it keeps you interested and begging for more, which is good. :) (By the way, book four comes out in August, so you have plenty of time to read them all before then. ;) ) Seriously, go. Read. Now!**

**(By the way, if you were wondering if this had anything to do with my fanfic, it doesn't. Just thought I'd tell you guys about some awesome books I've been reading. Sorry. :p)**

**Alright, now back to Maximum Ride. XD**

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><p>Angel sat on a bench, her feet tucked beneath her as she sat in the fetal position, rocking herself back and forth as she watched the other children practice. When Angel had first gotten here, they had stared at her coldly, calculating her every move. Later on, she found out that the reason for this is because they were designed to kill her. Trained to take her and the flock down for good. But now that she was with them, things would be different. They would no longer kill the flock. They would just capture them, take them along, train them like they trained the children. They would all be happy again. Forever.<p>

Angel was starting to doubt that dream.

From before her, she saw someone walk up to her, arms hanging at their sides, ready for an attack. Around here, no one let their guard down, especially not near their friends. The phrase _Keep your friends close and your enemies closer_ came to mind, though Angel thought they barely even trusted their deepest, closest friends around here. Trust was a liability, a flaw. Something she would have to overcome to be accepted around here.

Something she was already beginning to accept.

The boy looked at her with level eyes, and she shook beneath them. The paradise that the lady from the hospital had promised her was clearly a lie, Angel thought once she entered the facility. Either that, or they just needed time to get used to her, to learn to trust her, as the woman had explained. Angel didn't know, and really, she didn't care. She didn't care about much these days. She was too tired, too warn out.

Just like Max had been after Fang left.

She hated herself for it.

Before her, the boy extended his hand, and Angel flinched, expecting to be hit. It wasn't abnormal around here, especially during practice hour. If you were smacked, flicked, or punched at random, it was a challenge and would be dealt with accordingly. Angel had gotten smacked once since she got here, her first day. She was far too weak, though, and lost a lot more easily than expected. The woman was there to watch her, and Angel could tell she was disappointed in her. She then swore from then on that she would impress that woman, show her that she was worth the trouble.

But she didn't want to show them _now_.

The boy didn't hit her, as she expected. Instead, his hand was held _out_ to her, not _at_ her. Warily, she looked at the tall boy before her, studying his posture, imprinting his looks to mind. He was tall, with short black hair, kind of like Fang's, but straighter, where Fang's had a curl towards the end. His eyes were dark, like Fang's, but not pitch black. He had a straight, narrow face, and his arms were wiry, but thin, unlike Fang's more protruding muscles. His face was closed off as he stared at her, not saying a word. Waiting. He seemed trustworthy, Angel thought. Or, at least as trustworthy as people could get around here. Taking a chance, Angel reached out and took his hand-

And that's when something unexpected happened.

He hoisted her up, not breaking eye contact, and led her out to the center of the gym, where most of the activity was taking place. Angel followed, like a lamb following a shepherd, and stopped when he did, looking around. The children around her -from ages as young as six to as old as sixteen- stopped what they were doing to stare back at her, their stances stiff as they turned. One by one, they stepped out of their personal fighting circles and formed a large circle around Angel and the boy, not speaking, just watching. Angel saw all this with a growing sense of aw, wondering who these kids really were? Why were they here? and, most importantly...

Why were they all staring at her?

Angel risked a glance back at the boy, who was staring at her also, waiting for her to move. It was then she realized: This is a second chance. A second first impression. They wanted her to prove herself by fighting again. The fact that he hadn't smacked her to get her here had to mean something. Maybe they were being nice? Maybe they were trying to make her fit in?

It was all too much for Angel. And yet... She couldn't stop a small smile from forming on her lips. It was perfect.

Looking back at the boy, her face went serious again, and she put her fists in front of her, going into a fighting stance. Before her, the boy did the same, his face remaining expressionless as he stared at her, assessing her moves, her style. Waiting for her to strike.

Stepping forward, Angel began to circle the boy, watching him carefully. The boy did the same, his dark eyes never leaving her own, his no-doubt thirteen-year-own body taunt and ready to fight. Without warning, he jumped out and kicked for her midsection, a low blow, but not enough to harm her greatly. She blocked it easily with her arm, then stepped back as he shot again for her gut, his fist tight as it slammed into it's target. Her breath came out of her in a _Whoosh!_ as she stepped back, aiming for breath. He didn't give her the time, though, and grabbed her by the hair, fist raised to break her nose.

Angel turned quickly, wincing as some of her hair was pulled from it's roots. She reached back and kicked in in the stomach, sending a rush of wind out of him in turn. He bent over barely, then straightened quickly as she aimed to kick his head, blocking the move with his arm and sending her back slightly, getting in fighting stance once again.

For minutes this went, exchanging blows back and forth. What began as a half-an-hour quickly turned into an hour, and then an hour and ten minutes. On and on they fought, each of them aiming to overpower the other, the other blocking and retaliating at every turn. As they fought, the others watched with cold curiosity, not talking, not moving. Just watching.

In a weird, cold way, Angel loved it.

With a sense of power, Angel turned and jumped onto the boy's back, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding on tight with a choke-hold. He stumbled back, his face turning red as he fought to get her off of him, to fill his lungs with oxygen once again. Angel squeezed tighter, smiling as she felt him stumble beneath her, his strength giving way with lack of air. I'm_ going to win,_ she thought with renewed vigor. _I'm actually going to win! Max would be so pr-_

The boy jumped back beneath her, send both of them flying back-first onto the concrete below. Since Angel was on his back, she was the one who got most of the fall, her breath leaving her from the impact. Wheezing, she fought to stand again, but was quickly pinned down by the boy now above her, his hands at her throat, closing her windpipes and cutting off her oxygen. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think as she grabbed at his hands, trying to pull him off of her, to release her. But his hold was too tight, too strong. She gasped beneath him, trying to breathe. Red spots showed across her vision as she began to pass out. She was going to lose. She was going to lose...

_Again._

Suddenly, the hands around her throat loosened, and sweet oxygen pored into lungs. She sat up, gasping for air, coughing lightly from the lack of flow earlier. Looking up at the boy, she saw that he was staring at her, his breathing barely ragged even after she had done much of the same thing to him not so long ago. His eyes were indecipherable as he watched her, and she found herself wondering what he was thinking.

Standing, the boy held out his hand for her once again, waiting for her to take it. _What's this?_ Angel thought. _I thought I lost! What's going...?_

She took the boy's hand and stood shakily, looking at the crowd around her. Each of their expressions were still hidden, but now she saw a spark of something else in their eyes. Something good. Something like...

Pride. For _her_.

Angel smiled.

The boy beside her clasped her shoulder with his large hand, a welcoming gesture among the children. "Welcome to the Forces," he said, the first words Angel had ever heard from anyone at this facility. His voice was soft, yet strong. Like that of a poet or a singer, not someone you would think of as a warrior, Angel thought.

Without knowing what else to say, Angel just smiled and mumbled, "Thanks."

A small smile lifted his mouth just as the doors at the entrance of the gym opened behind him, revealing Dr. Gunther-Hagen, his hands clasped behind his back in a professional manner. He looked at Angel for a moment, his eyes lingering on the boy and the hand he still held on her shoulder, then looked at the rest of the children, radiating power as he spoke. "There has been a change of plans," he said simply, his eyes landing on each and every one of them in turn. "We are no longer waiting to capture the Flock. Instead, we are going to seize them... tonight."

There was an excited ripple through the crowd, though you would never notice just by looking at them. To see them, you would think he had just said _It's raining outside _or _A bird just flew by_. But the emotions in the room, they were the ones that skyrocketed. And only someone so finely tuned to each other could ever understand that. Like Angel.

Dr. Gunther-Hagen's eyes stopped at Angel, and she felt her heart skip a beat. "Tonight, the flock will be ours!" he shouted to cheers.

Angel smiled. _Finally. Now we can all live happily ever after! Just like the woman said we w__ould!_

She could hardly wait.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, what did you guys think? Like? Hate? Eh? Please review! :)<strong>


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